You Like to Think You're Immune to the Stuff
by dfriendly
Summary: Arthur finds it hard to control himself around Gwen when she wears a particular party dress. Modern AU. Inspired by a picture of Angel Coulby. GwenxArthur


**Title:** You Like to Think That You're Immune to the Stuff

**Fandom:** _Merlin_

**Rating:** NC-17 (to be safe)

**Characters/Pairings:** Arthur/Gwen, Merlin, Morgana

**Word Count:** 1,557

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Merlin_. All I possess is my adoration for it… (Oh, and a few lines at the end are from the closing scene of 2x10, ergo not mine, either)

**Summary:** Arthur finds it hard to control himself around Gwen when she wears a particular party dress. Modern AU.

**A/N:** Just in case anyone doubted the extent of the perversity of my mind… I wrote a smut inspired by ***THIS PICTURE*** (aka Angel on a Table aka The Pinnacle of Hawtness) at** i42*tinypic*com/6dwi12*jpg** (replace the asterisks (*) with periods (.) - FanFictionNet is weird with web addresses, and will delete parts of it if it 'senses' one.) It could not be helped. And, well… SOMEONE HAD TO DO IT.

Title from "Addicted to Love" by Robert Palmer (which I _also_ don't own). Because that's what Arthur & Gwen are. And (we're gonna have to face it,) we're addicted to Angel. (I debated between this song & "Simply Irresistible" but it seemed a bit shallower & about a woman who iused/i her looks than what I wanted.)

(Not Brit-picked)

llllllllll

It was about midnight, and the party was in full swing. The house was packed, the dance floor now just a mass of grinding bodies, and it was damned near impossible to locate the people you had come to the party with.

Morgana had abandoned them a long time ago to go on the prowl and was probably somewhere in the mob of dancing bodies. And at the rate Merlin had been going before he disappeared, he was probably cradling a toilet right about then. Anyone else they recognized had also dissolved into the crowd, leaving Arthur and Gwen standing against the wall of the dining room-turned-socializing area.

Arthur set his empty cup on the mantle next to him, both his hands now free to occupy themselves with Gwen's body in front of him. His one arm had been around her waist as she leaned her head back against his shoulder, while his other hand came to stroke absentmindedly at her hip.

Then Arthur paused, before his hand scoured the area from her lower back to the top of her bum for a single bump underneath her dress.

He leaned in, whispering huskily in her ear, "Guinevere, are you not wearing any knickers?"

He could see how her cheeks warmed. "I couldn't find anything that wouldn't show under the dress. I tried every thong and pair of knickers I had. But the material of the dress is too thin. So I realized… I'd just have to go without," she ended on a practical note.

"Yeah, I can _see_ the material's rather thin," he continued to murmur in her ear as his hand began to trace over her bum and the back of her thigh. "But that's hardly a complaint."

Gwen shifted a little. "Arthur, stop that."

"Why? It's not like anyone is caring to notice." A simple look around the crowed room confirmed this, everyone too drunk or preoccupied with someone else to notice.

"Because…" she whispered back, "I don't have any knickers to keep… certain things… _contained_."

Arthur's eyebrows furrowed for a moment, before his eyes widened comically. "_Oh_." Then he did something he surely would not have done in public if he weren't rather buzzed and snuck his hand up the back of her dress to between her thighs.

"Arthur!" she squeaked, pressing back against him regardless of her reprimand.

"Relax. No one could see even if they were paying any attention." His hand didn't have to travel far up her dress before he felt the dampness

He moaned, leaning his cheek against her curls. "I want you so bad right now."

He heard the sharp intake of her breath. "Arthur, we're at a party."

Arthur wiped his fingertips on her thigh and removed his hand before stroking over her hips. "Don't try to deny that you wore this for me."

His eyes scanned over what he could see of her from his angle. The form-fitting tube dress held up by just the ample slope of her breasts, her curves accentuated by the belt, and her legs looking impossibly long in the short length with some help from burgundy heels.

"I dress the way _I_ want to dress," she answered in defiance.

"Usually you do. But not tonight. You wore this to seduce your boyfriend. To drive me mad and have some fun."

A coy smile grew on her face at his tempting whispers. "Maybe."

Arthur chuckled lowly. "Well it's working."He pulled her flush against him so his growing erection pressed into her lower back. "Can't you feel how much I want you, Guinevere? I know you want me, as if the proof running down your thighs isn't enough. I've been turned on since I saw you in that damned dress, but now I _need_ you, Guinevere. I need you _now_."

He saw how her eyes closed and she bit her lip, clearly trying to fight her arousal. So one hand found her hem again, stroking as much of her bare thigh as he could without lifting her dress. He leaned down to growl her name just the way he knew would get a response.

"_Guinevere_…"

He felt the shiver course her body, proud that he had learned that trick a few weeks ago. He'd feel bad about it if he didn't think she knew how to drive him mad as well when she wanted to. The dress she wore tonight was evidence of that.

"But – where…?"

"We'll find somewhere," he said roughly, guiding her forward.

He kept her in front of him to block the bulge in his jeans from sight as they made their way out of the room and down the hall. It was soon apparent that all unlocked bedrooms were already occupied by other couples, and the bathroom had a line so it wasn't an option.

"Outside," she said, pulling him toward the back door. Arthur might have been surprised of her suggestion if he was thinking clearly, between the alcohol and insane need.

But even the backyard was quickly disqualified for how overgrown it was. Arthur wasn't against having a nice shag in the grass, but not in that monstrosity of garden.

There was however a final alternative.

"Shed?"

"At least check it out."

They moved through the stamped down path to the shed door, which was thankfully unlocked, and pulled it open. Gwen found the pull to a light bulb above the center work table. It was the only lighting in the place, casting the rest of the shed, crowded with cluttered shelves, in shadow.

Gwen leaned back against the table, smiling at their find. "This do?"

"Yeah," he answered, pulling the door shut behind him and striding to her.

His mouth crashed against hers from impatience, his hands roaming over her body until deciding to lift her up onto the table behind her.

Gwen squeaked and laughed, stroking him through his jeans and struggling to undo them. She finally resolved to use both hands on the button and then zipper, pulling his length out and resuming her caresses met by Arthur's grunts.

"Lie back," he rasped. "I want to see you."

She nodded and leaned back onto her elbows as he pushed her dress up the little that he needed to. When he sank into her, her back arched and she moaned, "_Arthur_."

He started thrusting and grinned at his view of her. Only one thing could make it better…

He slid the top of her dress down, revealing her breasts to him, and took one in his hand.

"Ah!" she gasped, wrapping her legs around his waist and pulling him deeper.

Arthur groaned. His other hand stroked the length of her shapely leg, ending at her heels. He remembered Gwen once saying that women only had sex in heels in porn – not that he had cared either way. But the fact that they were both so desperate to shag they hadn't fully taken off their clothes or shoes? That was pretty hot.

Guinevere laid out perfectly before him under the makeshift spotlight? That was even hotter.

Her thighs wrapped tight around him. Her breasts heaving. Her hair cascading onto the table. Her lips parted in that beautiful look of ecstasy. Her fingers grasping the edge of the table as she moaned...

And then there was that perfect moment when she stiffened and shook, crying out.

The sight of that sent him over the edge.

Arthur refound himself with his head resting on Gwen's chest, both of them panting. He turned his head to lazily kiss her breasts, feeling her hand intertwine in his hair.

She finally giggled. "I can't believe we just did that."

"Shag fiercely in the shed at a party?" he questioned with a smirk. "We could do it again…"

But she shook her head. "Let's go home first."

She nudged his shoulders to make him stand straight again before she slid off the work table and righted her dress.

They went back inside to find the house slightly less crowded.

"I suppose I should go make sure Merlin's alright. You want to check on Morgana?"

"No need," she returned, pointing to Arthur's left.

Morgana and Merlin appeared through the crowd, the latter paler than usual and a bit worse for wear.

"When are you gonna learn how to hold your liquor, Merlin?"

"Oh, shut it," Merlin responded, before lifting one eyebrow. "And where have you two been?"

"Just getting some air," Gwen lied. Did only Arthur notice how her voice seemed a slightly higher pitch?

"Mm-hm," Morgana answered speculatively.

"We were thinking about going. Are you two ready?"

"_So_ ready," Merlin sighed.

Morgana shrugged. "It's winding down anyway."

At some point on the walk home, Morgana stole Gwen away from Arthur to talk about the guy she'd been dancing with most the night, giving Merlin the chance to swoop in.

"I know about what happened in the shed."

"What?"

"The bathroom window looks into the backyard. I looked out it between spewing my guts out to distract me from the nausea."

"So?"

"You two had sex. In the _shed_."

"Merlin."

"Yes?"

"What happened in the shed…"

"Mm-hmm?"

"Speak of it again and I'll kill you."

"…Okay."

They continued walking in silence for a moment, besides the drunken laugh of Morgana ahead of them.

"Although I must say that's _quite_ the grin on your face."


End file.
